tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-99845842018-02-18T00:41:07.355+05:30ChiffonesqueWith something drifting and something shifting, the earth still held the sky.mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.comBlogger1512125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-68273262635237784372018-02-18T00:40:00.001+05:302018-02-18T00:40:42.646+05:30One more day has passed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I don't know what I have done but the font on this screen has become really tiny.<br /><br />I went for a play today. On the way, I took a short video of us driving past Nariman Point as the sun was setting. Put it up on Instagram.<br /><br />Shreya had put in a comment in the earlier post asking me about my Insta handle. (Shreya: I haven't gotten around to posting comments but thank you for reading my posts. I didn't think there was anyone around to read them.) My Insta handle is: notamistake23062017.<br /><br />I went for a play today, Dear Father at NCPA with my mom and brother. We had a really nice time. It was a great play (although it felt slightly long) and each actor really played his and her part well. Paresh Rawal is stellar!<br /><br />Do you think that, overall, it is a sin to grow old? I always used to believe that things will only get better when I get older. I could never understand why people are scared of getting older. I think it is because of loneliness. I think loneliness must be hugged&nbsp; - the way you hug a sweet, sad, aloof child. You must explore and excavate that loneliness, wash it and dress it like a wound, and heal it. Not heal it so that the loneliness becomes togetherness. You must heal it so that the loneliness becomes the most tender, fulsome loneliness there is.<br /><br />I think as you get older, you must become a parent to your loneliness.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-33568789392619314492018-02-16T14:53:00.000+05:302018-02-16T14:53:20.990+05:30More<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Now I need to scout for freelance assignments. Looking forward to it. My energy has not been quite up to it lately but I will get around to doing some good stuff soon.<br /><br />Somewhere around the end of last year and the beginning of this year, I have decided to focus on consistency. I think the simple act of sticking to something has gotten such a bad rep nowadays that maybe we are collectively giving up too early. Maybe we are just calling a lazy indisciplined mindset to be a flow. Or maybe I am just being too harsh.<br /><br />Matters such as these have occupied my head and heart since a long time now.<br /><br />It is Friday afternoon and I ate a lot. I had rice, jackfruit and potato curry, moon daal with a tempering of mustard seeds, garlic and tamarind. It tasted really nice. I had never really tasted tamarind with a smoky flavour but it was really tasty. Unexpected stuff.<br /><br />I also just had a can of Greek yoghurt which was not really nice. So I think I will eat a boondi laddoo. I intend to go for a run early today.<br /><br />Let's see.<br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-12089501125451684442018-02-15T00:23:00.000+05:302018-02-15T00:23:27.986+05:30What happened today<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I met my friend who'd recently gone to Paris. Her stories sounded lovely. They reminded me of my trip to Geneva. Her first meal there was a croissant, some dried apricots, a piece of cake and black coffee. It was cold, the Seine was flooded, and I wasn't there but for some reason, I imagined someone doodling summer strawberries on a napkin.<br /><br />I didn't go running today. I feel like running a lot tomorrow. I feel like having fun and taking it really easy.<br /><br />Also, I am typing in the dark.<br /><br />I was thinking of this concept where you buy time when you buy a book. That would be cool. And you also buy a mobile parking spot when you buy a car.<br /><br />I fit into a really old pair of olive green pants today. I'm thinking that I will not buy any new clothes this year. Of course, a year is a rather long period of time. I intend to take it one day a time. So, today I did not buy any new clothes.<br /><br />I see a Facebook post by Elizabeth Gilbert. I follow her page. She, it seems, has lost her partner. I really like her!<br /><br />Things are good.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-18569008855825121432018-02-14T16:40:00.001+05:302018-02-14T16:40:25.821+05:30Stuff<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Yesterday I went to a charming little shop called Honey Dough. Or maybe it is Honey and Dough. I got myself a ham and cheese croissant. It came in a light blue box with a print of some English neighborhood. The print was in white. The box was sky-blue. The snack was a ham and cheese croissant.<br /><br />The croissant was really good though. It was buttery, light, flaky. The slice of ham was tender. The cheese was salty.<br /><br />This first part was written a month ago when I was working in Defence Colony and I was non-vegetarian. I am no longer in Delhi and I am no longer a non-vegetarian. Both these situations may change. I just wanted to get a lot of stuff out of my head.<br /><br />I am back in Bombay and I am sitting in a very&nbsp;sweet nook in my mother's bedroom. Behind me are these long drapes in aqua silk and white tissue with silver embroidery. So it is pretty and all. But I haven't really gotten around to actually doing any work.<br /><br />I met some friends the other day in Juhu and it was nice. But you know, when you live and work in a different place for a bit, you feel a certain staleness leave you. It comes back when you are suddenly back in a circle where people make different choices - where they are building homes, careers, lives in one city only and travel to simply get away. It is not a lesser way of being but I wonder if I will ever feel comfortable in that kind of a set-up again.<br /><br />I don't know. Maybe it is early days now. But I feel I belong more in Delhi now, especially Noida - with its crowd of people from outside, living on rent, everyone figuring out the quickest way home from the station, etc. That familiar clump of uncertainty that blooms like a chrysanthemum.<br /><br />The only thing that I am really enjoying or rather that I am so curious about understanding more deeply is family. It suddenly strikes me that I am so different from my parents. It then follows that there is such huge amount of love and acceptance on both sides. That is a huge, shimmering prize - to be with family.<br /><br />You know what I found really surprising - just how little I am reading now. And whatever I am reading now, I am putting up a few lines along with the picture of the book on Instagram.<br /><br />The other fun thing that has happened is that I have started running. I go in the evenings to the neighborhood promenade built around the lake. I like the way the water shimmers with reflection of city lights. It looks peaceful even as my heart pounds and I sweat.<br /><br />I had planned to write more. In fact I had planned how I have not wanted to write for a long time. But I am meeting a friend for coffee. She has just returned from Paris.&nbsp;</div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-39379540644265484102017-11-20T02:55:00.000+05:302017-11-20T02:55:01.784+05:30New stint<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">To be so strong so as to keep it simple.<br /><br />Am in Delhi for the next 3 months to learn this.</div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-60785806826473864622017-11-07T00:38:00.003+05:302017-11-07T00:38:45.454+05:30Something soothing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">There's a tall, cool glass of kokum juice. It is sweet and tart. The hut is made of clay and there is a large cat sleeping in the corner. There's a bright brass plate which held my dinner some time ago. Dinner was simple. One fried egg, one cup of softly cooked rice, shreds of spicy potatoes, and a small raw onion. Now I have to sleep in here. There's a sandalwood incense burning here and through the tiny window, I can see the moon.<br /><br />Everything is quiet and filled with untangled peace.<br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-38534051147119753402017-10-01T08:14:00.003+05:302017-10-01T08:14:52.485+05:30A day like a perfectly buttered toast<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Here I am in Noida in a friend's place. He'd bought two bean bags the other day and we stuffed them with, well, thermocol&nbsp;beans. It is quite an arduous task if you must know. Your back and shoulders hurt (or rather mine did).<br /><br />Anyway, there's a slim balcony outside the bedroom. It overlooks the apartment complex - all grid-like and neat and tidy with rows of cars lined up oh-so-proper. From the top and enough distance, you forget the real bit of chaos that awaits you when you get down on the ground.<br /><br />I woke up early. It was six o'clock in the morning. My friend was asleep. His dog, Schenal, was quiet. The house had peace and silence wafting through it like incense.<br /><br />I took up Rushdie's newest novel, 'The Golden House.'<br /><br />Schenal and I made coffee. Rather I made, explaining the process to her. She seemed interested enough until I started stirring in sugar. She lost interest then but stayed outside the kitchen giving me a very kind form of companionable silence.<br /><br />Then I settled down in the bean bag with my coffee and novel to read. There was a sweet, happy dog looking curiously at the ceremony. The world was stirring. It has been nearly five months since I picked up a book to read for pleasure. It has been endless days since I woke up exhausted or anxious about unfinished work. It has possibly been moons since the sour taste of resentment of the ordinary drudgery of a freelance life hits you - no time for self and then finally, no self.<br /><br />But this morning, things were deep and good. Life seemed to have mellowed. Heart was beating at a pace that seemed human and unrushed. The blood in my veins felt cool.<br /><br />This morning was special because it just made sense. If you give Time time, you get your peace prize. No matter what has been eroded away until you get to that spot.<br /><br />As Camus put it, 'Peace is the only battle worth waging.'<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-24904137709773741482017-09-28T17:50:00.003+05:302017-09-28T17:54:25.933+05:30Some cooking has happened<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Dish number 1: A chicken broth</b></div><br />Took 4 cups water.<br /><br />Took 5 pieces of chicken leg. Rubbed them with some oil and salt and kept them on the side.<br /><br />Dry roasted ajwain, peppercorn, cloves, and garlic with salt.<br /><br />Pressure-cooked everything together.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Dish number 2: Baby corn</b></div><br />Sliced baby corn pieces in the centre.<br /><br />Prepared a dry rub with rosemary, oregano, paprika, and salt.<br /><br />Steamed the corn a little bit.<br /><br />Coated each piece of corn with the dry rub.<br /><br />Greased a pan with some butter and sauteed them.<br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-67852167932990555122017-09-11T12:40:00.001+05:302017-09-11T12:40:06.994+05:30Understanding Anger<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">This is a beautiful piece I came across:&nbsp;https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5IWf1fDSNg<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-37618933546812278322017-09-10T22:37:00.001+05:302017-09-10T22:37:47.332+05:3001, 00: Countdown ends<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I had begun this countdown one tiring day at work. I had decided that, from that day, I would spend exactly these many days on the job and in Pune.<br /><br />It turns out that I quit the job and left Pune much earlier.<br /><br />The countdown, though, was interesting.<br /><br />A friend had told me about a man called Jonathan Harris. He had started this website/ blog called www.cowbird.com. He wanted to take a picture to record each day. That was the project. I think it is like a quote by Virginia Woolfe (also told by my pal), "We marry because we don't want to live an unwitnessed life." (or we need a witness to our life - something like that.)<br /><br />I wanted to write something every day&nbsp;so that each day of the countdown, as I was preparing for my exit from the job, Pune, and the familiarity of life that I knew it, I was still recording something. Small, beautiful, sad, ordinary, special - whatever. I was recording that.<br /><br />I wanted to pay respect to the time that I had in Pune, in my job, with my colleagues and friends. Writing about each day was a way of paying respect to the hidden meaning that the hours brought.<br /><br />Today the countdown ends. I live to tell the tale.<br /><br />It was good. Now it is over.<br /><br />Maybe for the rest of the year, I will not have a countdown. I will simply ramble and sketch out my days.<br /><br />2018 - maybe I will begin a different countdown again.<br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-42245962632420364932017-09-08T01:30:00.001+05:302017-09-08T01:30:10.022+05:3002<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Don't know. Felt like dressing up today. I am wearing a black cotton salwar-kameez with a colorful dupatta. It's nice and fresh. I love bright, fresh cotton.<br /><br />Anyway, I dropped off my parents and uncle and aunty at the airport. They are off now and it really feels like they will have a good time. Gosh! Destiny...my parents in Japan!<br /><br />There's a strange thing that happened. Some moons ago, I was almost working on an assignment for a Japanese company. I was so besotted with the idea that I kept a bunch of Japanese-related stuff around me. I wasn't exactly working on visualization but hey, there were sketches of cherry trees, etc. I guess my folks visualized it stronger than I did.So they are off. :-)<br /><br />Anyway, things are good.<br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-80016714966172984362017-09-06T23:04:00.001+05:302017-09-06T23:04:54.848+05:3003<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">This is an article that I would like to read but won't because there isn't enough time:&nbsp;https://www.theguardian.com/news/2017/sep/05/how-science-found-a-way-to-help-coma-patients-communicate?CMP=fb_gu<br /><br />My family is leaving for Japan tomorrow.<br /><br />Some friends may come over the weekend unless I need to leave the city for some work.<br /><br />In the last few months of the year, I intend to get fit. My step towards being that way is meditating. Mum had a beautiful string of amber-colored rosaries which I have been using since the last two days. Will do some more meditation today. &nbsp;In fact, will do it right now, make some coffee and get back to work.<br /><br />Help me, Lord!</div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-8319758357495938022017-09-05T23:56:00.001+05:302017-09-05T23:56:22.932+05:3015, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 09, 08, 07, 06, 05, 04<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">A couple of days ago, I had thought of shutting down the blog.<br /><br />A month ago, I had thought of selling off my car.<br /><br />Nearly a year ago, I had thought of ending my life.<br /><br />I think of these three incidents because these thoughts had come to me from a place of very deep, peaceful sadness. I can't explain what this sadness feels like or what this peace feels like. I don't know why I was making such big, final decisions and on the basis of what. Maybe I forgot what all of this meant. Maybe there was no interest in continuing to guard this blog and what it stood for, my car and what <i>that</i>&nbsp;stood for, and my life and what that also stood for.<br /><br />They all just felt like very big, heavy, wobbly stickers that were peeling off.<br /><br />Anyway, I am writing the blog now.<br /><br />My car is still there. I haven't driven it yet but I haven't sold it either.<br /><br />My life - well, it still has all kinds of emotions and adventures and frustrations embroidered onto it. Haven't ended it.<br /><br />My decision to continue with all three also came from a place of peaceful sadness. A gentle acknowledgment that I don't know if I am worthy of all the plans I made for each of these things...but as long as there are days when I will breathe and the sun will shine, I will remain with these things.<br /><br />With a lot of tenderness and humility, I move onwards.</div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-64960291250572431692017-08-23T21:07:00.002+05:302017-08-23T21:08:16.997+05:3075, 74, 73, 72, 71, 70, 69, 68, 67, 66, 65, 64, 63, 62, 61, 60, 59, 58, 57, 56, 55, 54, 53, 52, 51, 50, 49, 48, 47, 46, 45, 44, 43, 42, 41, 40, 39, 38, 37, 36, 35, 34, 33, 32, 31, 30, 29, 28, 27, 26, 25, 24, 23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Lots of things are happening.<br /><br />Hence I have not been writing. But I think I will write a little more nowadays.</div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-11125223413888626072017-06-21T19:51:00.001+05:302017-06-21T19:51:41.939+05:3077, 76<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I am very very tired.So emotionally exhausted. Really I am getting by by just taking a walk and noticing a flower here, a stream there, &nbsp;etc. I think I have to take it slow now.</div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-26194771740860366552017-06-18T03:13:00.001+05:302017-06-18T03:13:51.421+05:3092, 91, 90, 89, 88, 87, 86, 85, 84, 83, 82, 81, 80, 79,78<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Some happy things have been happening. Feel excited and happy. Lots of work. Had an accident. Hurt the leg but it's okay. Watched Raabta. I liked it.<br /><br />Need to get more orderly about my work. Will make a list and work steadily to stroke off each topic in the list. It should be good.<br /><br />I have eaten some really good stuff lately. Very good pork and meat stuff at Boteco.<br /><br />Went to the coin museum at Reserve Bank of India. Was wonderful. I love many, many things happening around me now.<br /><br />Things will only improve.<br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-76602865721175701772017-05-30T11:55:00.001+05:302017-05-30T11:55:57.073+05:3095, 94, 93<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I am a little conflicted about people. Around me, I see people try. I think overall, people try to be good. When they slip up, they do not know how to forgive themselves and I think they pass on that pain and hurt to someone else.&nbsp;<div><br /></div><div>Every day, every single day, old friends - friends you are fond of - family - nodding acquaintances - your city, your world - will give you plenty of reasons to get angry, reject them, shut them off. I think it is important to soothe yourself and remember that we are part of a collective.</div><div><br /></div><div>Some days this is tough.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-26911636348442051352017-05-26T14:27:00.000+05:302017-05-26T14:27:54.057+05:3096<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It is a time for deep, very deep breaths. Back hurts somewhat and things are good.<br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-45131038482632989532017-05-25T02:18:00.001+05:302017-05-25T02:18:27.648+05:3099, 98, 97<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">A more efficient way to pack for trips between Bombay and Pune is required.<br /><br />Yesterday I was texting someone about a strange event - of when I had had an eerie experience at the Race Course. Maybe my mind started playing tricks but I got the scent of stables. Reminded me of the line from Richard Bach's 'Illusions' where he says something along the lines of why it's futile to miss friends. Because as soon as you think of them, aren't they already there?<br /><br />Some sweet things are happening.<br /><br />Also, I was just thinking that we don't remember when we were born and then we don't know when we are going to die and how can we think of anything that happens in between as reality?<br /><br />Interesting that I thought of this after citing an observation from 'Illusions'.<br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-29206268745079601322017-05-21T04:25:00.001+05:302017-05-21T04:25:26.709+05:30101, 100<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">quick scribbles in lower casing. mutton biryani. there was kheer cooked for a couple of friends - cashews and vermicelli. the milk was boiled with ground cashews to thicken it. it was so superb.connected with some really nice people online. was informed of bira&nbsp;beer. will try it soon. started reading power of the subconscious mind. time to clear up a lot of stuff so gave away a few things to my neighbor. i feel that lots of good things will happen.</div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-20032612580468719242017-05-18T23:51:00.001+05:302017-05-18T23:51:26.847+05:30102: It was such a day that from the furnace of all that was difficult, I will pick out the flowers.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I had a fun conversation with my friend, J. It was about work but it felt so good just connecting with her - looking forward to the time when she comes to Pune and if she has her way, we'll look for a place to live in KP. It will be so nice!<br /><br />I went to check out two homes in Pune, where I will be moving to. One is a friend's home. Humble, slightly darkly lit, almost unfurnished, kitchen is hardly set up, no curtain rods. It may be nice to go really simple for a while. Also, I would be living with a boy. That, erm, will be a change of pace.<br /><br />The other home has three other girls living there with a HUGE terrace. And by huge, I mean HUGE! It got my attention and my fancy. Had a lovely chat with the main girl who put up the post. It was nice. I like living around girls. One of them seemed grouchy and if I shift there, I think she and I will be the one that will have the most in common together. But man, that terrace!<br /><br />On the way to the first home, I passed by a little lane where the flowers were pretty and purple! And so purple! The petals just seemed to be filled with all colors wanting to be purple! They were purple like existence and they were purple like aspiration.<br /><br />My heart felt very heavy. So I went to Peter Donuts for a hazelnut coffee, which I love! Hazelnut cappuccino is my coffee equivalent of khichdi. Very feel-good.<br /><br />I went to Crossword where I bought the book on the sub-conscious mind by Joseph Murphy. A friend really recommended it highly. I went to the Crossword in Aundh where the greatest mysteries are usually written on the faces of the assistants when you ask them where to get a particular book. This time was no different. I thought they were out of it. But then, a huge carton was unpacked filled with this title! It's some marketing if you get the universe to conspire! :-)<br /><br />What other things are nice?<br /><br />Had really tasty poha and tea for dinner.<br /><br />Had a very nice, chilled glass of pomegranate juice.<br /><br />Read a status update where a friend's brother is going on a pilgrimage with his wife. Felt really peaceful when I read that.<br /><br />Parents are safe. Spoke with them.<br /><br />Fit into a skirt comfortably that was tight some months ago.<br /><br />Feels like the story will change.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-35308640795963165582017-05-17T20:56:00.000+05:302017-05-17T20:56:00.245+05:30103<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Last two were rough.<br /><br />Came across a video on Facebook where a girl who has escaped from North Korea is telling us about the life there.It is an international convention of some sort. She says that while they were crossing the Mongol border, ready to die if need be but escape North Korea nevertheless, they were stopped by Chinese guards. This girl saw her mother raped. People clapped.<br /><br />A long, long time ago, I had seen a video of Bipasha Basu in the US. She was there at some Independence Day function organized by an NRI community there. She took the mike and said that on the way to the function, a group of the organizers had molested her and had behaved really badly with her. She was on the podium with a mike. She was wearing a white salwaar&nbsp;kameez. It was Independence Day. In the US. She had a mike. She was on the mike saying all this. People around her clicked pictures and were cheering her. It came to a point where someone in the group told her something and she qualified her statement saying that she did not think that all NRIs were like that but a few were. She had a mike. They were clapping.<br /><br />I finished reading Milan Kundera's 'Identity'. It's the first Kundera, I read. Liked it. It is excruciatingly slow, soft, and sad. You sense the decay of the couples' relationship he is writing about.<br /><br />The boy - that producer's son. What will he grow up thinking of his mother - the one his father has blamed in his suicide note? He wrote a post. On killing himself. They liked it.<br /><br />I ate lychees yesterday.</div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-45902447306086814082017-05-16T01:39:00.001+05:302017-05-16T01:39:09.406+05:30104<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Today I heard the news of a Marathi film producer who had committed suicide after putting up a Facebook post about ending his life. In fact, he also got riled that people were liking the post but not reaching out to him.So, he apparently chastised his followers, consumed poison, and died.<br /><br />What struck me is that a couple of days ago (or was it yesterday), I had put up a post asking for some kind of prayer to help me get through the news of the raped girl. One friend sent me a hug. I got several views on that post but no comments. Since I have been on social media, especially blogger, for a long while now I know that views don't really translate into connect. In fact, in every office that I have worked, people have read my blog but never come right out to say that they have read it. Even for the posts where I &nbsp;expressed distress, etc., the people who read my blog by night and made eye contact with me by day did not reach out. I wonder if they were embarassed.&nbsp;Anyway, I think that when you write to express something, the expression itself must be the coping mechanism. When the anxiety is out, the strength unspools. It is best not to expect commiseration.<br /><br />I feel really sad about the producer. He had reached out.&nbsp;</div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-40191366818000695742017-05-15T12:24:00.000+05:302017-05-15T12:24:19.054+05:30woke up<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Last night was disturbing on account of what I had written on the blog. But a friend on facebook sent hugs.Someone else on FB picked a fight so the anger also helped. But I read a few pages of 'Course in Miracles'. I don't understand any of it but I have resolved to read through this, this year.<br /><br />I think sometimes, even if stuff is gibberish, it just helps to soak in words that feel healing.<br /><br />I like the Course in Miracles, though. It feels strong, dependable, and kind.<br /><br />May the girl go home to love and light.&nbsp;</div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9984584.post-40860080178603601392017-05-15T01:30:00.002+05:302017-05-15T01:30:38.365+05:30106, 105<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Today is Mother's Day. The day started off well. I procrastinated a lot. Got the house cleaned somewhat. Reviewed a course as I sipped my black coffee and looked at grey skies. Went to Koregaon Park to meet a couple of friends. After one of my friends had left, hung out with the other friend for longer.<div><br /></div><div>Came home. Cooked some spaghetti with soya bean, mustard oil, and channa masala.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sipping cold water now.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Came across an article that talked about a man raping a woman and tearing out her food pipe. I am now stumped. I do not know how to pray for her. And I know that unless I pray for her, I will not get peace - not even the fake, flimsy sort of peace that will let me sleep through the night and wake up tomorrow.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I am scared because I do not know what to do when I read about something like this. I am scared because I do not what kind of a prayer will do.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I am searching for a prayer tonight.</div></div>mukta rauthttps://plus.google.com/109490981535783628585noreply@blogger.com0